


Falling

by scarletjedi



Series: postsecret 'verse side stories [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Complete, M/M, Side Story, Smut, can stand alone, did I mention smut?, no plot without lack of communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletjedi/pseuds/scarletjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's not flying. It's falling—with style!</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to proxydialoge and raving_liberal, who give me the best beta-ing!

Puck knew what he had _told_ Finn that they were doing—that they were just buddies giving each other a hand. That they were teenagers, so of course they’d need that hand often. Who better to try it all with than your best friend, who wouldn’t _judge_ —and Puck knew Finn was trusting enough that he’d buy it—wouldn’t think Puck was using him. 

And Puck was. Using him. Had lied about it being “buddies” to get into Finn’s pants and—yeah, at the time it was to help Finn to forget Rachel. But really, it was to help Finn forget Rachel _and remember Puck._ And every time since? That was all Puck using Finn’s trust to fuck. 

Sometimes, Puck thought it might be better if he didn’t love the guy. 

Because he did—in a totally gay way. And all that did was make days like this—at the ice rink with Kurt and Kar—and _Dave,_ so much harder. Because they were all-but-dating and Puck wanted to hold Finn’s hand as they skated. But he couldn’t because a) not buddies and b) he was already holding on to Finn’s arms for dear life as Finn tried to keep Puck on his skates. 

Finn laughed softly, amused but not mean, and coaxed Puck gently. “Come on, you got this, Badass. Don’t let a little ice get the better of you.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Puck bit out, moving his skates as little as possible because they were _on fucking ice!_ “I can’t believe you're graceful on ice, but can’t keep a beat on stage.” Finn didn't say anything for a moment, and Puck snapped: "What?"

Finn just shook his head, biting his lip but unable to keep back his grin. 

"What?"

"You think I'm graceful?" Finn blurted, a flush creeping over his cheeks--more than the cold already had. 

Puck opened his mouth to say something stupid, like, "I think you're wonderful," when Finn's expression shifted—widened in surprise—then Finn was scrabbling, falling, pulling Puck down down with him. Puck hit the ice hard, jarring up through his head, landing half on Finn. He felt more than heard Finn's "oomph."

"Yeah," Puck said into Finn's stomach. "Like a ballerina."

Puck wasn't sure who laughed first, but then they just _were_ , laughing so hard they could barely breathe as others skated past, looking at them sideways. 

Puck tried to stand, but couldn’t get purchase on the ice. He wasn’t sure he could even if he _could_ get traction; he was laughing so hard, his muscles were weak with it. 

They managed, sniggering and gasping in the aftermath of their laughter, to crawl to the edge of the rink, sitting back against the boards, ice freezing their asses through their jeans. 

Puck looked over at Finn and had to stop himself from kissing him there, in front of everybody. He loved him _that_ much, he would, he wouldn’t even care—He—Finn was smiling at him and Puck leaned in and—

Kurt skated to a stop in front of them. “Are you alright? I saw you two fall.” 

“Fine,” Puck said, biting it all back, stuffing it all down, hoping that Finn hadn’t noticed what Puck was about to do. “Just fine.” 

***

“So you bringing anybody to Sebastian’s party?” Finn asked while Pick eased his skates off. Kurt and Dave had gone to get cocoa, and Puck felt his mouth go dry. 

“Nah,” Puck said. “It’s not worth it.” 

“ _You_ think a girl’s not worth it?” Finn asked. 

Puck shrugged. _You’d be worth it._ “Not really, I mean—” Puck shrugged. “I meant it when I said I want something more—lasting. I plan on getting the fuck out of Lima when I graduate, and I don’t want anything holding me back.” Puck swallowed. _I can’t date anyone when all I can think of is you._

Finn frowned, tongue peeking out like it did when Finn really concentrated on something. Puck looked away. Maybe it would be better to take his own advice—to stop this thing with Finn now before they _both_ got hurt. 

“That makes sense, I guess,” Finn said, finally. “I mean—I’m not looking for a new girl, either.” 

“Yeah?” Puck said. He wasn’t surprised. Finn never looked for girls; they fell into his lap.

“Yeah,” Finn said. “So maybe—I was thinking we could go together. Two guys. Having fun.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Finn said. He bounced. Like a puppy. _Fuck_ that was adorable. “We could be like those guys.” 

“What guys?” 

“Those seventies guys! You know!”

“Butch and Sundance?” 

“Yeah—no, no. They die at the end. No, those cop-guys.” 

Puck thought for a minute. “What, you mean Starsky and Hutch? 

“Yeah!” Finn pointed at Puck. “Like Starsky and Hutch.” 

Puck laughed. Yeah, two guys who fucked when nobody was looking but everybody knew it anyway. Sounded apt. 

“Sure,” Puck said. “But I’m Starsky. You’re Hutch.” 

***

The last time Puck willingly wore a suit to a party had been prom last year. He never expected to be wearing one to a New Years Eve party. Usually, the parties he went to ended up with fewer clothes, not more. Still, looking in the mirror in Finn’s room, Puck had to admit that Kurt was right: he looked good in a suit.

Finn was in Kurt’s room, letting Kurt put the final touches on his own suit. (Kurt had walked past Finn trying to tie his tie, and had dragged Finn off before Finn accidentally choked himself. Puck had just rolled his eyes at Kurt’s snapped, “And _you_ better be dressed when I come back, or so help me—”)

“Kurt is, like, magic with ties, dude,” Finn said, coming back into the room. Puck looked over an—

Fuck.

The suit wasn’t tailored, not like Kurt’s were, and the way it hung kinda make Finn look like a Fed or an underpaid office worker, the way it really didn’t flatter. And yet—

And yet...

Finn was looking at his sleeves, adjusting the cuffs. He hadn’t looked at Puck yet, and there was something about his profile, the way he held himself, that made Puck think: _He’s a man. This is the man he’s going to become._

And _fuck_ that was hot. Not just Finn, but Adult Finn. A Finn who, years from now, would still be around, would still look at Puck like he was special.

Puck had to touch.

Puck stepped past Finn and shut the bedroom door. He leaned back against it and let himself look.

Finn turned, finally, to look at Puck and his words died mid-sentence. Puck stepped forward, meeting Finn’s eyes and seeing an answering desire there. Old desire, still hot, from New Finn’s face. Puck had to—

“There’s gonna be girls at this party,” Puck said. “Hot ones. It might get hard to—heh—stick by our guns.” Puck’s mouth was dry. Let him fall for it, please, let him—

“Maybe—” Finn cleared his throat. “Then maybe we should, you know, take the edge off. So we’re not tempted.”

Puck felt lightheaded. “Look at you,” Puck said, stepping in close. “With your great ideas.”

“Well, you know,” Finn said, voice trembling as Puck slid his hand up Finn’s chest to grab his tie. “Quarterback.”

And Puck pulled and Finn leaned down and kissed him hard, backing Puck against the door.

“You look good like this,” Finn said, licking at Puck’s jaw.

“I always look good,” Puck said, pulling at Finn’s belt. His hands shook—this was nothing they hadn’t done before, but—there was no beer, no pilfered booze to blame it on. It was all them and it scared Puck a little how much he wanted to suck Finn’s cock.

And he knew Finn would let him, would let him do anything—Puck felt wild, needed control, and—

“Shh, it’s okay,” Finn soothed softly into Puck’s ear. “It’s okay.” 

Puck felt Finn's hands at his neck, undoing his tie, and it was easier to breathe, but Puck kept his face tucked into Finn's neck, and Finn soothed a hand down Puck's back.

"I got you," Finn said, and fuck, how did he know what Puck was thinking?

Finn ran his hands down Puck's arms until he grabbed Puck’s wrists, used his leverage to push himself away. Puck felt a flash of panic—rejection!—before Finn drew Puck’s hands together between them. Puck watched with shocky eyes as Finn wrapped Puck’s wrists in his tie. 

“Like this?” Finn asked, and Puck met his eyes, unable to speak. “Like this,” Finn said, stronger now, and gently pushed Puck to his knees. 

Puck licked his lips, the panic receding to background static as Finn pulled his cock from his pants, already hard and flushed a deep red. 

“Well?” Finn said. “Do it.” 

Puck surged forward, straining up on his knees to lick a stripe up Finn’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Finn grunted, and reached down to cup the back of Puck’s head, holding Puck still as Finn thrust into Puck’s willing mouth. 

Puck’s heart was racing, but he was grounded now—grounded on the feel of Finn’s cock stretching his mouth open, straining his jaw; the taste of him, thick and bitter on the back of his tongue; the smell of Dial soap and Finn and—

“Fuck! Your mouth!” Finn groaned. “Fuck your mouth, I’m—” 

_Yes,_ Puck thought and worked in earnest, determined to do the best—to be the best—no chick would ever be able to do what he could—Finn would never find someone better—would have to keep Puck—

_“Shit,”_ Finn whined, and came, and Puck choked on his shock and pulled back, swallowing what he could, and pulled off, only to be hit in the cheek with a final burst as Finn hunched over himself. Leaning on Puck, Finn staggered, would have fallen, but Puck caught him, help him up with his shoulder and petted Finn’s thigh with useless hands. 

“Fuck,” Finn breathed. “Fuck, that was hot.” 

“Heh,” Puck laughed, pushing past the harshness in his own voice. “The Puckmaster never disappoints.” 

“Never,” Finn said. There was something in his voice, something that made hope float up through Puck’s chest, and he met Finn’s eyes. 

Finn smiled, but was distracted by the come cooling on Puck’s cheek. With dark eyes, Finn reached out and wiped Puck’s cheek clean with his thumb. Puck watched, eyes wide, as Finn offered him his thumb. 

Puck opened his mouth, drew Finn’s thumb in with tongue and teeth, and sucked, cheeks hollowing, as Finn opened Puck’s pants, relieving pressure Puck couldn’t believe he didn’t notice growing. Finn closed his big hand around Puck’s cock. It didn’t take long—a handful of strokes and Puck was coming—falling back at the last minute, jaw clenched to keep the yell inside, stars bursting behind his eyes. 

“Shit,” Puck said after a long minute, still on his knees and bent back over his own feet, pants open and hands tied. 

“That was so cool,” Finn breathed. “You came faster than I do, dude!” 

“Shut up,” Puck grumbled, but there was no heat. “It’s what happens when you hammer a kink like that.” 

Finn blinked, flushed a light pink. “I didn’t know that was a kink of yours.”

“Me neither.” 

Puck lifted his hands, ready to be free of the tie. “Fuck,” he moaned. The tie was ruined, pulled too tight and wrinkled, mangled. “I can’t wear that.” 

Finn shrugged. “I’d offer you mine, but they’re too big, dude. And Kurt’d kill you if you took his.” 

Puck slumped back, but let Finn pick at the tie and free his hands. “Fuck it,” Puck said. “I’m a badass. I can rock it without a tie.” 

“I wanna rock it,” Finn grumbled, finally tucking himself away. He tried to fix his own tie, as Puck gathered himself, but it was no use. Kurt’s work was ruined. Hopefully, he’d be too distracted by Dave to notice. 

Finally, as presentable as he was ever going to get, Puck turned to Finn, only to see him stuffing Puck’s tie into his pocket. At Puck’s look, Finn blushed. 

“We don’t know how hot these girls will be,” Finn said. “We may need it.” 

_That_ meant that Finn planned to fuck at the party. Puck’s cock twitched. He could totally get behind that idea. He grinned. “All right.” He gestured Finn to lead. “Let’s party!”

_Take that!_ Puck said to the Finn-stealer in his head. For now at least, Puck was in the lead. 

And if worst came to worst, Puck could always use his belt.


End file.
